


tease me with your love

by Finduilas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Stiles is putting on a show, Teasing, leather jacket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is wearing Derek's leather jacket. And nothing else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tease me with your love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Tumblr Ask. 
> 
> Anonymous inquired:
> 
> _Seeing Dylan wearing a leather jacket at the MTV Movie Awards, makes me crave to see Stiles wearing Derek's leather jacket .. Nothing else. Only Derek's leather jacket .. Stiles innocently parading around in their home, shameless, driving his sourwolf insane .. PERFECT._

Not once in his entire life has Derek growled when not in his wolf form. Not one single time. He’s not an _animal_ , alright? And yet there’s this primal grunt bubbling up in the back of his throat that he has a hard time pushing back down.

“ _Stiles_ …” Derek says, and the warning sounds hoarse to his own ears.

Stiles just shoots him a grin over his shoulder as he turns his back on Derek.

“Stiles,  _please_ ,” Derek grits through his teeth, his eyes falling down to the round curve of Stiles’ ass, just peeking out from under the jacket.

“Is there a problem, Derek?” Stiles asks all innocently, and the way he clenches his butt cheeks creates two perfect dimples. Two perfect dimples that Derek’s thumbs fit in precisely, and it has Derek’s cock stirring in interest.

“You know exactly what…” Derek says, narrowing his eyes as he lets them glance up and down Stiles’ body shamelessly now.

Stiles just grins wickedly, fists twisting with the collar of his jacket, Derek’s leather jacket to be more precise.

“You’re a menace,” Derek says, but it sounds like a compliment.

Stiles sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, raising his eyebrows innocently as if he’s not parading around the room wearing only Derek’s jacket, his cock peeking out from under the hem.

“I like your jacket,” Stiles says, smoothly, almost humming, as he hugs the fabric around his chest, bringing up the collar to his nose to sniff at.

“I can tell…” Derek says, swallowing around the urge to reach out and touch. To smooth his hands over Stiles’ calves, scratch his nails in those thighs.

“It smells like you,” Stiles goes on, slowly pulling down the zipper, revealing more skin until it falls open completely. Stiles’ cock is half hard now, resting against the hem of the leather jacket, and Derek doesn’t stop himself from squeezing his own dick through his pants, giving it the last push to grow fully hard.

“Do I smell like you?” Stiles asks, turning to the side a bit, poking out his ass again as he spreads his legs slightly.

“Sometimes,” Derek says, his voice cracking, his fingers aching with the need to touch, even though he knows exactly what every inch of Stiles’ skin feels like.

The edge of Stiles’ mouth curls up as he shuffles a little closer, sticking his hands deep inside the pockets of Derek’s jacket, spreading his legs some more as he regards Derek coyly.

“Make me  _reek_  of you?” Stiles asks, the bridge of his nose scrunching up as he lingers on the ‘R’. He wraps his fabric-covered palm around his own stiff cock, and Derek knows he’ll never be able to wear that jacket again without getting hard.

“C’mere,” Derek mutters, pulling Stiles down on his lap in one swift movement, naked thighs on either side of him as he folds perfectly over Derek’s waiting body.

“Finally,” Stiles mumbles against Derek’s willing lips, thumbs brushing up against the grain of Derek’s stubble as he cups his face.

“I’m never gonna be able to wear this fucking jacket again,” Derek grumbles in between kisses, sliding his hands underneath it, fingers stroking over Stiles’ ribs.

“Want me to take it off?” Stiles asks, his nose pressed against Derek’s cheek, as he grinds down his hips in Derek’s lap.

“No,” Derek says, without missing a beat, curling his hands around Stiles’ back protectively.

“Good,” Stiles whispers, lips vibrating against Derek’s skin. “I think I’m gonna wear it everywhere from now on.”

“I hate you,” Derek breathes out, burying his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck, drowning in his scent mixed with the leather.

“You really don’t,” Stiles says, and his voice stops being a tease as he adds genuinely, “You love me as much as I love you.”

And Derek really can’t argue with that.


End file.
